Page 4 of Swipe Right on the Alpha (Fur Real Love #1)
“Remind me again why I agreed to drive forty minutes into the wilderness to meet a man I’ve only had one date with?” Aiden muttered into his phone camera as he navigated his compact car along the increasingly narrow road. “This is literally how every true crime podcast starts.”
He’d been documenting the journey for his Instagram stories, maintaining a running commentary that was equal parts excited and nervous. His followers were going wild—the mysterious “Mountain Man Dylan” had become something of a sensation after Aiden’s carefully edited recap of their first date.
Without the parking lot makeout session details, of course, Aiden thought, remembering how Dylan’s hands had felt gripping his ass, how that unexpected growl had sent shivers down his spine. Some things were still private… for now.
The GPS announced his arrival as the road opened to reveal a clearing with a surprisingly stylish cabin. Not the rustic shack Aiden had imagined, but a modern interpretation with large windows, a wraparound porch, and thoughtful landscaping that blended with the surrounding forest.
“Update: Mountain Man apparently has excellent taste in architecture,” Aiden informed his viewers as he parked beside Dylan’s rugged SUV. “Also, I’ve shared my location with three separate people and have pepper spray in my pocket, so if this is a trap, it’s a very poorly planned one.”
He did one quick mirror check—his burgundy button-up was still crisp despite the drive, hair artfully tousled, designer jeans hugging all the right places—before grabbing the bottle of wine he’d brought and heading to the door.
Before he could knock, the door swung open to reveal Dylan, and Aiden momentarily forgot how to breathe.
Gone was the awkwardly dressed man from the restaurant.
This Dylan wore a simple black henley that clung to his muscular torso like a second skin, dark jeans that hung perfectly from narrow hips, and bare feet that somehow made the whole picture even more appealing.
His dark hair was slightly damp, as if he’d recently showered, and his smile was warm if slightly nervous.
“You found it,” Dylan said, stepping back to let Aiden enter.
“Your directions were surprisingly precise for someone who works in ‘wildlife management,’” Aiden teased, hoping his sudden spike in attraction wasn’t completely obvious. “Nice place. Not at all what I expected.”
Dylan’s home was open and airy, with high ceilings and a wall of windows overlooking the forest. The décor was minimal but tasteful—comfortable-looking furniture, a few striking landscape photographs, and an impressive stone fireplace currently crackling with a welcoming fire.
“What were you expecting? Animal pelts and hunting trophies?” Dylan asked with a hint of amusement.
“Maybe a few more flannel shirts hanging from antlers,” Aiden admitted, handing over the wine. “Though I’m a little disappointed by the lack of taxidermy.”
Dylan’s smile widened. “Sorry to disappoint. The stuffed bear is at the cleaners.”
The joke—unexpected from the usually serious man—delighted Aiden. “He jokes! Mark the calendar.”
A delicious aroma wafted from the kitchen area, and Aiden noticed the beautifully set table visible through an archway. “Something smells amazing.”
“I made shepherd’s pie,” Dylan said, looking suddenly uncertain. “I should have asked if you had dietary restrictions.”
“Only an allergy to bad food and boring company,” Aiden replied, following Dylan into the kitchen where multiple pots simmered on an impressive professional-grade range. “Wow, you actually cook. I assumed ‘come over for dinner’ meant ordering in.”
Dylan looked genuinely confused. “Why would I invite you over just to order food?”
“Because that’s what people in the city do?” Aiden hopped onto one of the bar stools at the kitchen island, watching as Dylan moved confidently around the space. “They ‘cook dinner’ which means opening Uber Eats and transferring takeout onto real plates.”
Dylan shook his head, opening the wine Aiden had brought. “My m—” he paused, then continued, “My mother would be horrified. She taught us all to cook from scratch.”
“Big family?” Aiden asked, accepting the glass Dylan offered.
A shadow passed over Dylan’s face. “You could say that. Close-knit. Sometimes too close.”
Something about his tone suggested complexity beyond his words. Aiden found himself genuinely curious rather than just collecting content. “Complicated family dynamics? Now that’s something I understand.”
Dylan seemed to relax slightly. “They mean well. They just have… traditional expectations.”
“Let me guess—settled down, married, kids, carrying on the family wildlife management tradition?” Aiden suggested.
“Something like that,” Dylan agreed, stirring something that smelled heavenly. “What about your family? Do they follow your… content?”
Aiden laughed. “My sister’s my biggest fan. My parents are supportively confused. ‘Very proud of you, dear, though we don’t understand why people want to hear about your dating problems.’” He mimicked his mother’s voice perfectly.
Dylan’s laugh was rich and warm, doing funny things to Aiden’s insides. “Dinner’s ready if you’re hungry.”
“Starving,” Aiden admitted. “I was too nervous to eat lunch.”
“You were nervous?” Dylan looked genuinely surprised as he carried dishes to the table.
“Don’t let the confident social media persona fool you,” Aiden said, following with their wine glasses. “I spent an hour choosing this outfit and changed my mind three times about coming.”
“Why?” Dylan asked, pulling out Aiden’s chair in an old-fashioned gesture that should have felt cheesy but somehow didn’t.
Aiden waited until Dylan was seated across from him before answering honestly. “Because you’re different. You don’t seem to care about my follower count or want to be featured in my stories. It’s… refreshing. And terrifying.”
Dylan’s intense gaze held his. “I care about you, not your online persona.”
“You barely know me,” Aiden pointed out, though his heart raced at the sincerity in Dylan’s voice.
“I know enough to want to know more,” Dylan replied simply.
The meal was delicious—hearty comfort food expertly prepared—but Aiden found himself more engaged in the conversation than the food.
Dylan was still somewhat reserved, but more relaxed in his own space, sharing stories about growing up in a “close-knit community” in the forest and asking thoughtful questions about Aiden’s life and work.
As they finished eating, Aiden noticed Dylan becoming increasingly fidgety, checking his watch and glancing occasionally toward the windows where darkness had fallen.
“Hot date after this one?” Aiden teased, though a twinge of insecurity colored his voice.
Dylan’s head snapped up. “What? No! Sorry, I just…” He hesitated. “The full moon makes me restless sometimes.”
Aiden glanced out at the perfect circle of light visible through the trees. “The full moon? Are you into astronomy or something?”
“Or something,” Dylan muttered. “Would you like to see the rest of the place?”
The tour was brief—the cabin was beautiful but not large, with a master bedroom, guest room, and office comprising the private spaces. What struck Aiden was the connection to the outdoors; every room had large windows or glass doors leading to porches or small private decks.
“You really love nature, huh?” Aiden said as they ended up back in the living room, where Dylan added another log to the fire.
“It’s in my blood,” Dylan replied, a strange intensity in his voice. He seemed to be struggling with something, his movements more agitated than earlier. “Sorry, I’m a bit… off tonight. The full moon—”
“Makes you restless, you mentioned that.” Aiden moved closer, drawn to Dylan despite the man’s odd behavior. “Is that why you keep looking outside? Planning to howl at it later?” he joked.
Dylan froze momentarily, then forced a laugh that didn’t quite sound natural. “Something like that.”
He’s hiding something, Aiden realized. But what could possibly be connected to the full moon? Some weird spiritual practice? Secret midnight hobby?
“You know,” Aiden said, stepping even closer, “if you’re trying to get rid of me, you can just say so.”
“That’s the exact opposite of what I want,” Dylan said with sudden intensity, his eyes almost seeming to gleam in the firelight. He reached out, large hands gently settling on Aiden’s waist. “I want you here. Maybe too much.”
The atmosphere shifted instantly, the strange tension transforming into something electric. Aiden’s breath caught as Dylan’s thumbs traced small circles at his hips.
“Too much isn’t something I’ve complained about before,” Aiden said, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he placed his hands on Dylan’s chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath the soft fabric.
Dylan’s pupils dilated, and something almost predatory entered his expression. “You should be careful what you offer, Aiden. I’m not always good at… restraint.”
The warning should have been a red flag. Instead, it sent heat pooling low in Aiden’s belly. “Maybe I don’t want restraint,” he challenged, sliding his hands up to Dylan’s shoulders. “Maybe I’ve been thinking about that growl in the parking lot for two weeks straight.”
A visible shudder ran through Dylan’s powerful frame. “Aiden—”
“Less talking, more showing me why you built this place with so many horizontal surfaces,” Aiden interrupted, pressing his body against Dylan’s and feeling the immediate, hard evidence of Dylan’s interest.
Whatever internal struggle Dylan had been having appeared resolved as he claimed Aiden’s mouth in a kiss that was nothing like their first. This was demanding, hungry, almost desperate.
His hands slid from Aiden’s waist to his ass, gripping firmly and pulling their hips together in a way that drew a moan from both of them.
Aiden responded eagerly, one hand tangling in Dylan’s thick hair while the other explored the broad expanse of his back.
Dylan was solid everywhere, radiating heat that seemed almost feverish.
When Aiden tugged experimentally at his hair, Dylan broke the kiss with that same growl from their first date—a sound so primal it sent shivers down Aiden’s spine.
“Bedroom,” Dylan managed, voice rough with desire. “Now.”
“Bossy,” Aiden teased, but he was already being walked backward toward the master suite, Dylan’s mouth now exploring his jaw and neck with hungry kisses.